Plata (7 page)

“So you sent him to look after me.”

“Yes,” he said, a hint of doubt in his voice. “Did he?”

“Did he look after me?”

Pierre waited expectantly. She could see the worry in his eyes. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say or where to begin. Pierre cleared his throat.

“Adam saw you at the club last night, when we were supposed to be together at dinner. He said it looked like you were crying and you were bleeding here.” He gently tipped up her chin to study the fresh scab there. Pierre frowned. “What happened? Why were you not at the restaurant?”

Madison felt a chill creep through her remembering the whole terrible scene. Her hands began to shake again, and she felt tears burning in her eyes. But she fought them back and took a deep breath.

“The taxi I took to meet you…went somewhere else,” she said. She could see Pierre tense immediately, and his expression darkened. “There was another guy. They took my purse, my phone.”

Pierre buried his face in his hands. “Why did you not let me send a car?” he muttered, anguish in his voice.

She didn’t know what to say, so she looked through the smoky glass at the stream of food vendors and late night shops, their bare bulb lights glowing in the darkness.

“How did you get cut?” he asked breathlessly.

“One guy had a knife.”

Pierre tenderly touched her chin and went silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat.

“He didn’t… They didn’t…?” He couldn’t say the rest.

“No,” she mumbled. “They tried, but they didn’t. I got away.”

“How?”

She didn’t know how much to reveal; whether or not to tell him about Ramon. Something in her gut told her it was a bad idea. If Pierre got involved, things would get too messy. Something might happen to him.

“A guy came along,” she said quickly.“He had a gun, so they backed off. He was a nice guy. He gave me a ride.”

Pierre said nothing. He only gazed at her with pained eyes and stroked her hand. Then he pressed it to his lips and sighed heavily.

“I am so sorry, Madison. I am so very sorry.”

She stared at him in wonder. He really cares about me, she thought. The alcohol loosened her natural restraint, and she found herself leaning toward him, surrendering to the relentless pull of his magnetism. He moved toward her as well, though cautiously. Soon, she could feel his warm breath on her lips, and it was so electric that her legs began to tremble. Pierre pushed a hand into her hair.

“Ma chérie,” he whispered, almost desperately.

When their mouths fell together, Madison felt such an unexpected jolt of pleasure that she let escape a low moan. Her whole body was trembling now. Her thoughts faded into smoke, until she was only desire and hunger and fire. Both of Pierre’s hands were in her hair now, his mouth as hungry as hers. His breaths were quick and shallow, accelerating with his growing excitement. Madison was so mad with passion, she wanted to tear off her clothes and pull him onto her so they could make love right there on the seat of his car. But Pierre forced himself away from her mouth with a gasping breath.

“Wait,” he said, leaning back his head and closing his eyes. “Or my efforts to be a gentleman are in serious danger.”

Madison looked at him, her cheeks flushed. “Maybe I don’t care if you’re a gentleman.”

Pierre smiled without opening his eyes. “Well, I do,” he said. “Self control. It is what sets me apart from the person I was in the past. I do not want to be that person again.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “But you make it hard. It was never so hard. Not even with my wife…”

“Your wife?” Madison gasped. “You’re married?”

“Was married. Yes.” Pierre lifted his head and looked at her. “I have had a life, chérie. And in my life there was love. Good love. Bad love.”

“And what kind of love did you have with her?” Madison asked quietly, surprised by the flash of jealousy. The fire inside her began to cool.

Pierre’s eyes went distant. “First good love. Then bad love. Then very bad love.”

“Was she French?”

“Mexican,” he said. “She was the reason I opened the Mexico City office. So she could be near her family. And now she is gone, and I am still here.”

“Where did she go?” Madison asked, hoping it was very far away.

“To Greece. With a man even richer than me.”

Madison looked out the window again. The cinder block houses and taco stands had given way to large gated homes with security guards standing watch in the street. They weren’t anywhere near Enzo’s house, but she didn’t care.

“Do you miss her?” Madison asked. “Are you still in love with her?”

“No.” Pierre reached over and took her hand. “I was not in love with her for a very long time.”

“Why not?”

“She was beautiful,” he said. “And I was a fool. Men are always fools. The fairytales are full of them. A man falls in love with a princess on sight. They get married and live happily ever after.” He sighed and shook his head. “I assure you there is no happily ever after for a fool.”

“I’m not sure I understand…” Madison was only vaguely aware of the car ascending a steep, winding road without a house in sight.

“I like to look at beauty,” he said. “But I need more to fall in love. A woman with a brain.With a sense of self. A woman who knows she will find her place in the world based on what she knows and what she can do. Not on who she marries.” He squeezed Madison’s hand and smiled. “And it helps to have something interesting to talk about.”

The car took a sharp right and rolled through a large iron gate that swung closed behind them. It pulled down a long driveway, drawing closer to a spectacular mansion. It was a modern build, with geometric lines and a wall of trellised glass that looked out at the vast stretch of city lights below.

“Where are we?” Madison asked.

“My house,” Pierre said. “I want to know that you are safe for now.”

“This is your house?” Madison gasped. The car rolled to a stop and the driver got out. “It’s amazing.”

“Better than the slums of Paris,” he said, laughing.

The driver opened Madison’s door and held out his hand. Embarrassed, Madison accepted it and pulled herself out of the car. Pierre came around from the other side. He put a gentle, goading hand on her back.

“Come inside,” he insisted. “I’ll make you a cup of tea before bed.”

She arched her eyebrows and smiled. “Bed?”

Pierre led her up the steps and through the front door. “I have many guest rooms, my dear.”

Madison stepped inside and gazed around her. It was the most elegant place she’d ever seen, with colorful, wall-sized art that must’ve cost a fortune, and vaulted ceilings made of black metal and glass. The floor to roof windows looked out on a serene, impeccably clean swimming pool, which glowed with blue LED lights. A single lamp cast a lambent light through the room, and Bach’s cello suites played low from hidden speakers.

She shook her head in awe. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Pierre said distractedly. He put a tender finger under her chin and lifted it gently. “Let us put something on this. Come.”

He escorted her to a large, beautifully appointed bathroom nearby, and wet an impeccably white hand towel. Then he carefully applied it to the underside of Madison’s chin where the scab had long since dried. He opened the top drawer of the vanity and picked out a tube of antibiotic cream.

“Now be a good patient,” he murmured, dabbing it onto the wound. “Keep this. You must reapply every few hours. It is no fun to get an infection in Mexico.”

“Okay,” Madison wearily agreed. “But let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? I just want to forget.”

An older woman appeared carrying a tray. She was dressed in a peasant skirt and apron. With a respectful nod to Pierre, the woman bustled into the front room. Pierre and Madison followed. The woman set down the tray on a brushed metal coffee table. It held bottled water, a carafe of wine, and two glasses. He gave her a warm smile.

“You spoil me, Magda,” he said in Spanish. “You should have gone to bed hours ago.”

The woman shrugged and smiled, but Madison saw the suspicion in her eyes when she glanced her way.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Madison said.

Pierre laughed. “She thinks she is my mother sometimes. But she will like you very much. Please sit down.”

Madison settled onto the white sofa and gazed out at the twinkling lights stretched out to the horizon.

“From up here, this city is really a knock out.”

Pierre opened the bottle of wine and poured her a glass. “It is better at night when you cannot see the smog.” He handed her the glass.

“I thought you were going to make me a cup of tea,” Madison teased coquettishly.

He poured himself a glass and sat down in the armchair across from her. “Do you want a cup of tea now? I will make it.”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, this is perfect.”

Their eyes locked for a long moment. Madison held her breath.

“Yes,” Pierre said quietly. “It is perfect.”

Her mind drifted back to the town car and the long kiss.It made the heat rise inside her again. But then she thought of how she’d be going home soon. She’d never know where this could go, and what kind of couple they would make.

“I have to go home soon,” she said sadly. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”

Pierre looked disappointed. “I will have Rafael take you.”

Madison shook her head. “No. I have to go back to
my
home. In Denver.”

“Oh.” Pierre grew quiet. He nodded slightly and looked down at his glass. “I see.”

She waited, but he didn’t press her for details. For a moment, they sat in a somber silence. Finally, Madison cleared the lump from her throat.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

The vodka mingled with the wine, making her feel a little woozy.“How come you’ve never asked me why I’m working at that place?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

She shrugged. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Very.” He held her in an unblinking gaze. “But it is rude to ask such a thing. You are a very intelligent young woman. I have faith you know what you are doing. And why.”

She stared at him. He was so different from any man she’d known. He respected her. And it was clear to her that he’d lived enough to know better than to jump to conclusions about people. Suddenly, she was desperate for him to know everything about her.

“My dad died about six weeks ago.”

Pierre closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “My God. How terrible.”

Madison nodded. His cool eyes were full of compassion, and it made her want to cry. She kept her eyes on the shimmering crystal glass in her hands.

“So my mom kind of lost it.” Her voice wavered.“He basically gambled away everything we had, including the restaurant that’s been in her family for generations.”

She looked back up at him, and saw how changed his face was. The composed elegance was gone, softened into such open sincerity, that for a moment, Madison’s words caught in her throat. She took a long drink.

“I’m trying to save the restaurant,” she said quickly. “It’s the only thing I might be able to save.”

They sat in silence again listening to the music and watching the cruel and indifferent city shimmer below. Then Pierre looked at Madison with a melancholic smile.

“I am so sorry for all of it,” he sighed. “But you are prepared. You are too intelligent and strong not to fight. And I admire you so very much.”

Madison smiled her old Madison smile. “You do?”

“Yes.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “And I am so crazy about you.”

Their eyes locked, but neither moved. Pierre’s face was beautiful in the subdued light, his features softened; seductive. The air grew increasingly charged with the electric force between them. Finally, Madison ran fingers through her bob and leaned forward over her crossed legs to show a hint of cleavage.

“Pierre?” she asked softly.

“Hmm?”

“What did you really think of the dance? The one I gave you at the club that night.”

Pierre stared at her, unblinking. He drained the glass and set it on the end table beside him.

“The truth?” he asked.

“Yes. The truth.”

“It was the single most erotic experience of my life.”

Madison smiled.She emptied her glass, and put it aside. The next thing she knew she was pulling off her boots and socks. Pierre tilted his head with curiosity. She got to her feet. Holding him in her gaze, she unbuttoned her pants and slowly pulled them down, exposing her slender thighs. He froze. She was still wearing the black thong from the club, and she noticed Pierre shift restlessly in his chair at the sight of it. He watched her carefully and said nothing, but his lips parted slightly, as if in anticipation. Madison sat down again and pulled off the pants. She left them in a heap on the floor and moved toward him with the sensual sway of a table dance.

As she unbuttoned her blouse, she was surprised to see Pierre fixated on her face, as if it were the nexus of his desire. His cool blue eyes appeared unusually warm, and in them she thought she glimpsed a hint of that reckless bad boy of his past.

When Madison pulled open the blouse and exposed her bosom, full and straining at the black silk bra, Pierre’s eyes left her face. She could see his chest rise with a deep inhalation as he stared hungrily at her breasts. Madison smiled coyly, gently stroking her cleavage the way she did at the club, and then cupping and squeezing her breasts, which always made men squirm. Pierre let his head drop back with a frustrated groan.

Slowly, Madison let the straps fall over her shoulders. She opened the front clip of her bra, pausing for an excruciating moment before letting the silk spring back so that her breasts tumbled free. Pierre let out an audible sigh and muttered something unintelligible in French.

She moved closer to him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair and arching her back so that her taut nipples were mere inches from his lips, just as she had done that night in the club. But this time she gasped to feel his tongue gently prod at them, testing. She closed her eyes and shuddered with pleasure. When Pierre took a nipple into his mouth and suckled it, she cried out softly. Then, with great restraint, he sat back in his chair, urging her to continue the dance. Madison struggled to regain her composure. She managed to turn a sensual circle that showed off her firm, round bottom. He let out another quiet groan and pushed a hand through his thick hair, his eyes wild. She ran her fingers over her body, touching every part of herself with relish.